Maun
by The Spork Warrior
Summary: A mildly insane Ravenclaw with a deep love of watching boys snog sets in motion a plan to get Hogwarts' biggest rivals together for her viewing pleasure. Eventual DMHP, M to be safe.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Maun

Author: Fuelled By Ramen

Genre: Humour/Romance/WTF?

My lawyer says I need a Disclaimer: I've introduced two of my very own characters, and they are, aside from my idea, the only things in this damn fic that belong to me. Everything else belong to J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. and all those companies that fiddle about with the HP universe. Whether that's a good thing... well, you can decide that for yourself.

Summary: A mildly insane Ravenclaw with a deep love of watching boys snog sets in motion a plan to get Hogwarts' biggest rivals together for her viewing pleasure.

Warnings: Slash, OFC, OMC, language, possible smut (but it's not very likely, and probably anything graphic will be mentioned but not described in great detail because I'd rather not get a nose-bleed and destroy my computer and because is a bitch sometimes), AR, complete disregard of HBP

----

1st September - Fateful meetings

The train ride was uneventful, unless of course you counted the momentary commotion caused by a 2nd year Hufflepuff accepting a Canary Cream from a 7th year Ravenclaw. It was almost like every other journey to Hogwarts, and it was that familiarity that calmed Harry Potter immensely. Neville Longbottom was entranced by a book (which may have seemed a bit odd if Harry had been paying more attention), and Luna Lovegood, who had decided that their compartment was the best, was flipping through the Quibbler with her dreamiest expression over her face. The bickering of Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger provided a wonderful bit of back noise, and Harry actually found himself drifting off to sleep easily.

Of course, that was until the door to the compartment slammed open and someone let out a muffled yelp, before tripping over his outstretched legs and landing square on Hermione's chest. A moment of stunned silence followed before the invader scrambled back, lunged toward the door and pulled it closed. She turned, brown eyes frantically glancing over the small group in the room (resting momentarily on Hermione, who had a look of deep offence on her face) before she simply demanded only one thing.

"Hide me."

And that was how it all started, Harry mused. The year that changed everything, the year that made him re-examine what he thought was true. All because this mischievous 7th year Ravenclaw called Paige Tucker decided to make it her goal to meddle with his love life. He didn't know what she was doing at first, because if he had he would've made sure she was never given a good opportunity. By the time it dawned on him what she was up to, however... well, it's safe to say that things were already in motion and it was too late to stomp out the lit fuse creeping towards the barrel.

---

Draco Malfoy was stuck between wanting to scream and wanting to slam Vince Crabbe's face into the compartment door for being an annoying idiot. But Malfoys are composed, and refrain from maiming their allies when betrayal wasn't rampant. They refrain from shrieking like a banshee when they're bored, and they most certainly do not hold something like chronic stupidity against the other purebloods in his house. Even if they are spawned from an incestuous marriage.

After counting to ten in at least twelve different languages (including Elfish), Draco decided that rather than maiming he could settle for throwing a conjured shoe at the imbecile.

"Vince, I request that you shut the hell up," A dramatic pause, "Or I might be forced to refrain from giving you any candy this term."

Vincent looked absolutely aghast, his mouth slight ajar before he snapped it shut and remained quiet for all of five minutes.

It was around that time when a dark-haired girl pulled open the compartment door and smiled somewhat insanely at them. "Excuse me, but I was wondering if you knew where I could find a horribly inept Hufflepuff with no qualms with taking candy from strangers?"

After examining the girl for a moment (and taking in her Ravenclaw robes), Draco decided that Paige Tucker, while obviously off her rocker, was worthy of his attention. That being established, he pointed her in the direction of a 2nd year Hufflepuff he'd seen eying the sweets trolley longingly. Little did he know that she was plotting something, and that said plot definitely involved him.

---

Earlier, 16 August

Paige got the idea one night during the summer holidays at her older brother's house. It was fairly late, and they were working on a marathon of soppy chick-flicks, when it dawned on her that Hogwarts' two biggest rivals could easily be shoved into many of the movies they had just watched and it wouldn't be too big of a stretch.

And that's when her idea began to form, right there with her brother while they watched Muggle films and ate popcorn.

It was times like that which made her immensely proud to be a Muggleborn, when she knew that a pureblood would have no idea what was going on.

Potter might, she found herself thinking, but he wouldn't figure it out until it was too late. She was perfectly aware that she was grinning profusely (and probably somewhat manically), and even more aware of her brother staring at her.

"You're plotting again, aren't you?" he deadpanned.

Her eyes gleamed as she replied, "Of course I am! Those movies gave me a wonderful idea to end a silly school-boy rivalry."

A raised eyebrow was all it took for her to begin explaining just what she planned to do and how she planned to do it, and by the time she'd explained, her brother was convinced that she was, indeed, certifiably batshit insane.

---

15 September

"She's a stalker."

"I think you're exaggerating, Harry."

"No, I'm not. She's an insane stalker trying to kill me. Or at least maim me."

"She's not that bad, mate."

"She's out of her bloody mind!"

"Who's crazy?"

"Who do you thi- Oh. It's you," a pause, "Wait, how did you get in here!" Harry turned in his chair to face the grinning Ravenclaw, a look of disbelief covering his face.

"Oh, this and that," she waved at Hermione and Ron, both of whom held fairly guilty expressions, "but if you must know, I just asked around until someone gave me the password. Really, Harry, whoever decides on the Gryffindor passwords needs to think of something better. What kind of password is _caput draconis_?"

Harry withheld a twitch. "I'm sure the Ravenclaw password is much better, then?"

"I think it is. It's much better than 'kill the snake'(1), at least." At this point, Paige had plopped down onto one of the couches, and was still grinning.

The twitch of course had other ideas, "What do you want, exactly?"

She smiled widely, and Ron and Hermione took that as a cue to get the hell away while they still could. Harry, feeling betrayed and unneeded, stayed were he was and hoped that the girl wasn't going to start hitting on him. "Oh, actually, I was just wondering about your knowledge of Muggle movies."

She was greeted with a blink. "That's it?"

"That's it."

Stare. "You _are_ insane, aren't you?"

"So it _was_ me you were talking about!"

More staring. "Why?"

"Just curious." She looked... devious, and Harry found himself scooting away from her cautiously, like one would creep away from a bear about to eat you.

'This doesn't bode well.'

---

Six hours later found Draco Malfoy reaching the same conclusions as the Ravenclaw skipped from the Slytherin Common room after having a very similar conversation with the Slytherin ice prince.

Pansy peeked out from behind a wall tapestry, "Is it gone?"

A nod, "Yes, she's gone," A pause, "I hope."

"She's a bit insane, yeah?"

"A bit? I was thinking more along the lines of 'destined for St. Mungo's', myself." Blaise remarked as he emerged from his hiding spot (a clever location beneath a sofa), "What was all that about Muggle 'movies'?"

Draco was disconcerted, to say the least, but hid it very well, "I don't know. But I think she's plotting something."

"She's stalkerish," Vince chimed in from across the common room. Greg nodded slowly from behind Vince.

Pansy held up one perfectly manicured finger, "I wouldn't be surprised if she was trying to waylay you, Draco dear."

"I wouldn't be surprised if she was trying to kill me," Draco deadpanned, not even bothering to drawl as he added mentally, 'This doesn't bode well at all.'

---

Outside, Paige was cackling gleefully to herself. 'Phase one initiated!' The group of first year Slytherins standing nearby cowered.

---

A/N: So it's my first posted HP fic. Frightening, yeah? I thought so. Well, as of this posting, I have up to chapter 5 written, and I'll try posting once a week. I'll post the first simultaneously, and the rest weekly. This will hopefully be fairly long and a bit crazy. Hope you enjoy(ed)!

Notes: (1) The password in the first book was, if I remember correctly, exactly that. Kill the snake. I think I was laughing for a few days after I re-read it and realized what it meant. I originally was going to use the same meaning, but in Italian, and then I changed my mind. Because... yeah. I'm a dork.


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Maun

Author: Fuelled By Ramen

View first chapter for all warnings and disclaimers and other shit.

For those of you who failed to notice, this is meant to be humorous and not really too serious. It will have it's serious moments, but it's mostly just going to make fun of some things. Also, I've so totally fucked with the timeline.

---

28 September - And so it starts

It was a particularly dreary day. Rain came down in torrents, completely disregarding everyone who may have wanted to go outside. The clouds were swollen and dark, nearly black, and blocked out the sun to the point were it almost looked like night.

And the newest addition to the Defence Against the Dark Arts wall of shame was utterly mad in her insistence that the N.E.W.T. level students should practice counter-curses outside. Of course, the seventh years couldn't really argue with the woman (as she was built much like an American football player), and chose instead to make sure their robes were impermeable while they set to work knocking each other over.

Harry had a joyous time hexing Draco, but wasn't fond of when the other boy hexed him back.

Barely six feet away, Paige stood easily bouncing hexes back at her partner (a Gryffindor that is never once mentioned in the books and only serves at plot food) while she grinned manically at her plan. 'Oh, it won't be much longer now! I just need to get into position.' She shuffled her feet a bit, manoeuvring so that she now stood facing the rivals while her partner tried his damnedest to stop tap-dancing. Her grin widened as she raised her wand and pointed it at the two boys, whispering fairly loudly, "O formose puer, nimium ne crede colori. Cave sis cum Amore tu unquam bellum sumpseris. Nec mortem effugere quisquam nec amorem potest!"(1)

And with not much more fanfare, the two boys simply vanished form view, leaving behind nothing.

Immediately half the class turned to stare at Paige.

"What?"

"You killed Harry!" roared the Gryffindors.

"Draaaco!" shrieked the Slytherins.

"Maybe we'll finally win the Quidditch cup!" exclaimed the Hufflepuffs.

"Would you say that was more of a 'poof' or a 'vanish!'?" questioned the Ravenclaws.

The professor thought for a moment, "Where did you send them, exactly?"

"Hm? Oh, er, well... One movie or another. I think it might be Breakfast at Tiffany's, but I'm not quite sure." Paige stared at her wand, "No, wait, Judith, my wand that is, tells me that they're not in a movie. Oh, that's lovely! Perfect! The spell created it's own little world, and Draco and Harry are both there! Oh, I must go cast the viewing charm! Excuse me."

Everyone fell silent as she skipped from the room. Most of them had no idea what the hell the girl was talking about. The ones who understood however... they couldn't decide if they wanted to laugh and join her in watching Potter and Malfoy's misfortunes or run back inside to hide under the bed.

---

'Bloody hell,' was Harry's first thought upon waking up. His head pounded viciously, and not in a "Grr, I am Voldemort, I give you HEAD EXPLODY!" kind of way, which he was actually quite grateful for. Well, not the headache itself, but the lack of evil retard magic behind it. His second thought was, 'Why the hell does it feel like there's someone on top of me?'

_Well_, a voice told him softly from somewhere in his head, _because there is someone laying on you. Seems he's still not up yet._

'He?' Harry tried to sit up, but immediately gave up as whoever was laying on him refused to move.

_Why, yes. That lovely blond boy is still unconscious. _The voice answered, musing and sending a shiver down Harry's spine.

"Oh no." He muttered aloud.

_Oh no? Why 'oh no'? He seems quite pleasant to me. Very conversational._

'You're in his head too?'

_Indeed. I like it here. Very cosy. You know, you both have very similar thought patterns. Oh, how splendid! Such lovely names! Hm, oh yes I do indeed like it here._

'Where are we?' He found himself asking, not even bothering to think about 'we' meaning he and Draco Malfoy.

_Maun, dear. Very lovely land, but I'm afraid you can't see much with your eyes closed. Mayhap you could open them a bit and take in the splendour? _The voice in his head suggested, prodding gently on his mind. Harry was about to slowly open his eyes when the weight on his chest suddenly lifted and hands wrapped themselves around his neck. Gagging, his eyes snapped open and he found himself staring into the steely grey ones of Draco Malfoy.

"Potter! What did you do? Where the hell are we, and why am I here with YOU?" He yelled, tightening his grip and not caring that the way he was currently straddling Harry certainly would have pleased their respective fanclubs, "You insufferable PRAT, answer me!"

Harry let out a wheeze that sound strongly like "can't breathe" and Draco, more intent on answers, loosened his grip. Harry coughed, "Fuck, Malfoy! Why don't you just ask the ruddy voice in your head what's going on, because I don't have a clue!"

Silence.

"I bet it was that Ravenclaw."

_Oh, what a wonderful observation! But I must ask, what's a Ravenclaw? Is it something tasty?_

"Why would she bother?"

"The lunatic wants us dead, I bet."

"I can see why she'd want to kill you, Malfoy, but why me?"

"Shove it, Potter. I'm the one on top right now."

More silence.

"Did you really just say that?"

"Sod. Off."

"Can't. You're on top, remember?"

_Hello? Boys, could you please tell me more about these Ravenclaws? I seem to think they might be good on crackers._

"I refuse to talk to disembodied voices. Bother Potter instead."

"I hate you."

The silence reigned again, and Harry used the lull in activity to get a good look at his surroundings. It really was quite lovely, and he found himself wondering exactly were "Maun" was, and wondering when Draco would deign it necessary to remove himself from Harry.

For some odd reason, Draco decided to stay right where he was. Harry had difficulty deciding what disturbed him more: the fact that Draco was on top of him, or the fact that Harry found himself really not caring.

'It's the temperature. It must be.'

---

Paige giggled somewhat insanely. Really, she wasn't as crazy as she acted. In fact, she was simply very dedicated to whatever her current obsession was. And her current obsession was insuring that before the end of the school year, Draco and Harry WOULD be snogging in public.

Which was why she sat in the Room of Requirement, surrounded by nearly half the student body, watching the Gryffindor and Slytherin currently being displayed on a giant screen against one wall.

She simply had to make sure her plan worked.

Of course, she was sure it would. Her plans always worked.

The other students eyed her warily as she popped an every-flavour bean into her mouth.

---

"Oh, this is ridiculous!" Harry exclaimed, kicking at the grass. Draco watched him with barely covered contempt, and the voice giggled in their heads. "I can't believe we're stuck here!"

Harry had passed from the calm acceptance of their situation to indignant annoyance. Draco expected him to reach the denial stage momentarily.

"No, there's no way this is happening. I'm sleeping."

'Ah, yes. There it is.' the blond rolled his eyes. Being perfect, Draco had gone through all the stages of coping within a few moments, 'He's a bit slow on the uptake.'

_Ahahah! You're so funny! We really must meet face to face!_ The voice added, seeming to be very perky. It had taken to doing that every few moments, just randomly saying pointless things. Occasionally it would give directions of the "Oh no! That's an evil man-eating tree! Don't go near it!" variety, but it's usefulness was sorely lacking and made both Harry and Draco wish they were expert Occlumens.

Draco decided ignoring the voice was the safest route, "Are you nearly done, Potter?"

Harry blinked and stopped abusing the ground, "Er, yeah."

"Brilliant," Draco sneered, "Perhaps now we can figure out a way to get back to Hogwarts. I'd very much like to maim that monster of a girl!"

Harry found himself reluctantly agreeing with the Malfoy heir.

_There's a nice little town just a few metres ahead, beyond those trees. You might find something there, eh?_ Harry and Draco both were amazed at the sudden usefulness, and informed the voice of such, _Of course I'm useful! Why do you think I've been telling you about carnivorous trees?_

Both boys refrained from comment and made their way towards the little town (occasionally glaring at each other).

It was actually much more than a nice little town. In fact, it seemed to be more along the lines of a fortress-like city. A really big fortress-like city. A huge stone wall surrounded the inner city, and a heavy stream of foot-traffic came from the only visible entrance. The tops of buildings could be seen peeking over the edge of the wall, and a fountain of ivy covered most of the stone.

Harry stared.

Draco stared.

The voice cackled joyously, _Oh, I'd forgotten that we took that left at the carnivorous tree. Welcome to Trezbuens, capital of the city-state Trem!_

'I thought you said we were in, er, Maun?' Harry asked the voice.

_You are, silly. That's the continent. This is the country of Trem on the land called Maun._

Harry sighed, "B-l-o-o-d-y hell. This is like a horrible fantasy novel."

"Oh, shut it, Potter. I, for one, would much rather be in there than out here. And for another, what in Merlin's name is a 'fantasy novel'? Some kind of perverted Muggle book?" Draco sneered, shoving his hands into his robe pockets and examining the people before them. "Nevermind, Potter, don't bother answering that, I don't really care."

Restraining from twitching, Harry unconsciously copied Draco's position, "Fine then. D'you think those people look normal enough?"

"I don't know Potter! They look like _peasants_ to me!"

"_Everyone_ looks like a peasant to you."

"That's because compared to me, most people a_re_ peasants!"

"Do you do ego-stroking exercises, or are you just naturally this big-headed?"

"Do you practice looking like a common ruffian, or has it something to do with your less-than-mediocre mudblood heritage?"

"At least my mother didn't always look as though there was a foul odour right under her nose. Perhaps she was smelling you're rotten personality?"

"Why you lowly, insignificant whelp! How dare you!" Draco's eyes flashed in rage a split second before he launched himself at Harry, "You lousy ingrate! Degenerate! PRICK! I hope you get screaming scrotal pox!(2)"

Harry, yet again pinned beneath Draco, wondered fleetingly if the blond had somehow developed a split personality. Then he realised he'd never actually made fun of the boy's mother before, so this was probably a perfectly normal reaction. At around that point, he started to feel a bit light-headed and it dawned o him that Draco had his hands around his neck, and was strangling him. Again.

Harry's last thought before passing out was, 'I hope that's his wand pressing against my thigh.'

---

A/N:Cackle: Yeah. It's a bit out there, but it's fun to write and I love putting them in really bizarre situations. Some chapters will be this length, others will be longer, but I'll try my best to make sure none are shorter than this. I hope you've enjoyed so far!

(1) These are in order: (Pretty boy, complexion isn't everything. Take care that you never declare war on Cupid. No one is able to flee from death or love!) I know, completely random, but they make sense to me (prolly since I'm the author...) maybe they make sense to you, and if they don't, well... maybe you'll figure it out later?

(2) Does anyone know what screaming scrotal pox is from? I know it's from some fic somewhere, but I can't figure out which one. So, if you came up with it, you're brilliant and I give you credit! It's not mine. :grin:


	3. Chapter 3

Maun

By: Fuelled by Ramen

View first chapter for all warnings and disclaimers and other shit.

For those of you who failed to notice, this is meant to be humorous and not really too serious. It will have it's serious moments, but it's mostly just going to make fun of stuff. Also, I've so totally fucked with the timeline and everything else.

---

"So, er, how exactly are they going to get back?"

Paige glanced over at Hermione, who sat next to her, and grinned, "Well, if they had been put into a movie, they'd be back when they'd played it out. Problem is, they actually got pulled someplace else." The maniac paused, completely ignoring the looks she was getting as she watched the Draco on the screen smack Harry in an effort to wake the other boy as a really huge person ambled up to them, "And since it's like any fantasy RPG, I'd say they have to go with the general 'quest' archetype and find their own damn way back."

Blaise raised a black eyebrow from a Paige's other side, "What's an 'RPG'?"

"Role playing game, silly. Oh! I hope this world is like Final Fantasy!" The dark-haired girl nearly swooned.

Blaise leaned behind the Ravenclaw and muttered to Hermione, "She's totally bonkers."

Hermione nodded in agreement.

---

Harry had the distinct feeling of being beaten over the head with an Arithmancy text book, and then kicked with an iron shoe, before being trampled by a horse - or maybe a seriously offended hippogriff. He pondered the feeling, and finally decided that, yes, this was probably what it felt like to be beat up by a hippogriff.

Luckily, he woke up in a nice, soft bed, and had a fleeting hope that maybe it had all been a dream and he was back home in the Hospital Wing or St. Mungo's. And that Draco was six feet under.

An exasperated and highly annoyed sigh came from somewhere around him, but he wasn't ready to open his eyes yet. "Potter, wake the hell up."

A mental sigh, 'Well, so much for Malfoy being dead.'

"Potter! Get up before I make you get up!" Draco proceeded to kick the side of the bed.

"Bloody hell! Leave me alone!" Harry exclaimed, sitting up and trying to give the blond the evil eye, "First you strangle me and now you won't shut up! Shh! Take a fucking nap!"

On that fine note, he collapsed back onto the bed. The hippogriffs were offended again.

Draco sounded highly affronted, "Don't tell me what to do, scar-head! Besides, there's only one bed in here and I refuse to share with the likes of you!"

The black-haired boy tried to ignore the pounding in his skull long enough to ensure that his face was thoroughly annoyed. "Then why the hell am I in it if you're going to complain?"

The blond muttered something.

"What was that?"

"I've ropes tied around me."

This, Harry decided, was something worth braving the hippogriffs to see. He gingerly sat up, focusing on Draco, who was tied to a chair right next to the bed. A bit of cloth hung limply around his neck (Harry assumed it had been a gag), and his hair was a complete disaster. Harry withheld a laugh as he watched the disgust and embarrassment spread through the Slytherin's entire bound demeanour.

A laugh escaped despite his best efforts to smother it, "Oh, this is rich! Draco Malfoy, Slytherin, pompous git, amazing bouncing ferret, bound and tied to a chair! Who do I thank for giving me the opportunity to see this?"

His comment earned him a super-heated glare of impending doom and/or death, only moments before the door to the room was shoved open and a really big, really muscular man walked in, all smiles.

"Aah seh yu'r awok, lil mah!"

"What?" Harry blinked.

"I couldn't understand him either." Draco deadpanned, turning the glare to the man, who had, after all, bound and gagged him in a room with Harry Potter for eight hours.

"Aah sai, Aah seh yu'r awok!"

The voice chose this moment to come back, _He's saying that he sees you're awake._

Draco snorted, 'You can understand this man. Why am I not surprised?'

If disembodied voices could blow raspberries, that's exactly what it did. _Fine, I'll only translate for Pretty-Black-Haired-Boy. I like him better anyway._

Harry, on the bed, listened carefully to the voice before giving Draco an evil grin. The Slytherin, of course, did not pout. Really. He didn't. Instead, he continued to glare at the Gryffindor. Or, at least, he hoped. Shaking his head, Harry turned back to the towering man, "Right, yeah. Could you possibly tell me, er, us, where we're at?"

The man looked a bit confused, and seemed to be running through the boy's words in his head. Finally, he seemed to grasp what was being said and smiled widely, "Aye, o cor Aah cahn! Yu bey ehn meh hame ahseid o Tresben."

The voice, again, was kind enough to translate, _He said 'Yes, of course I can! You're in my home outside of Trezbuen.'_

Harry nodded, even though that seriously didn't really help at all. "And, uh, who are you?"

"Aahm col Ian. Mie Aah beh osken ou yu beh?"

The voice started to translate, but Draco, who was starting to get that crazy accent, answered, "I'm Draco Malfoy, and the invalid is Harry Potter."

Harry snarled at Draco, "Hey! I'm not an invalid! You're the one who's made a habit out of strangling me!"

"Because you're an invalid." Draco replied smoothly, offering the man a fake smile, "Sir? Could you possibly untie me?"

The man laughed again, "No, Aah canna! Yu av duh ahm ta duh uhta bah! Canna trus yu!"

Draco groaned, mildly irritated that he could decipher the man's words, mostly because they weren't making anything any better. 'Brilliant. Bloody brilliant. I knock Potter out and I get tied to a chair.' He sighed, "If I was to say I won't strangle him again, would you untie me?"

"Mahb. Buh Aah dunah e yu pla ta ahm em ageh." Ian did not stop laughing for another few moments, and both boys were a bit concerned about the man's sanity.

"Potter, you have your wand, right?" Draco, desperate to be unbound, resorted to talking to Harry.

Harry nodded, his face suspicious.

"Untie me, will you?"

A devious grin broke out on the Gryffindor's face, and Draco knew then he was screwed, "Actually, Malfoy, I'm quite enjoying this. It's refreshing."

"Great. Potter has a thing for bondage."

"That's the second sexual innuendo you've made in what, twenty-four hours?" Harry enjoyed watching Draco twitch.

"When I find a way home, and I'm leaving you here."

---

Meanwhile, at Hogwarts, the Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy viewing party seemed to have gained a few more people, and Paige was delighted. Her plan, while having been altered, seemed to be working out. 'Innuendo!' She exclaimed to herself.

Ron Weasley stared at the Screen!Harry.

Pansy Parkinson stared at the Screen!Draco.

The Slytherin and the Gryffindor turned to stare at Paige.

Pansy finally asked, "So what made you decide to send those two?"

Paige grinned somewhat evilly, "Simple," she rested her head on her left hand, "Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy together equals hot. And it's about damn time they got rid of that sexual tension and snogged already."

"Couldn't you have manipulated them here?" Ron asked.

"Of course not! What would be the fun in that?" the Ravenclaw giggled, waving her hand at Ron in a dismissive manner. "Merlin! Can anyone understand what that guy's saying?"

---

"Weh, Aahm gohn nah. Mab, meh wie, wih wach yeh." Ian said when his laughter died down

Draco blinked, 'Okay, that time I have no idea what he said.'

The voice made a smug noise.

"MAAAB?" The man suddenly yelled, setting off a series of banging from outside the room and running footfalls. A woman appeared in the doorway, eyes wide. Ian cheerfully turned to her and whispered something, which caused the woman to nod as the man wandered out of the room.

The woman eyed the two boys warily, but eventually smiled brightly at them, "Well, are you boys hungry?"

Harry and Draco both sighed in relief, glad that the woman wasn't verbally impaired. Draco nodded vigorously, "Yes!"

She raised an eyebrow at him, "It seems my husband was in the shed again. I suppose I should untie you."

Draco perked up at that, "Yes, please!"

Harry sighed as Ian's wife untied the blond, "Well, it was nice while it lasted."

Draco smirked at Harry.

"I'll go get some tea then." She turned and headed back towards the door, "Oh, and I'm Mab, dears."

The boys stared at the door for a moment before Draco jumped out of his chair and practically fell to the floor. Steadying himself, he turned to Harry, hands on his hips, "You're lucky I don't much like the sight of blood, or I would maim you."

Harry rolled his eyes. "You've been threatening that for years, Malfoy, and you haven't followed through yet."

"That's because I don't like blood!"

The brunet stared at Draco for a moment, "We're stuck here, right?"

"I assume so."

"Then why don't we try to get along long enough to find a way back to Hogwarts before we try to kill each other."

Draco watched Harry with narrowed eyes, "Are you suggesting a truce?"

"More like a lull in combat."

A smirk graced the blond's pale face as he stuck out his hand to the Boy-Who-Lived, "Deal."

And they shook.

---

A/N: Eheh, yeaah. Thanks to all 3 of my reviewers for the first 2 chapters. And to the 300 some-odd people who read, but did not review. Next time, hit the button, yeah? I LIVE for feedback, and it really makes me sad to continue writing something when no one seems to really like it enough to review. I'll keep on for those who DID review, though, because they make me smile. I hope this chapter was somewhat amusing.


	4. Chapter 4

Maun

By: Fuelled by Ramen

View first chapter for all warnings and disclaimers and other shit.

For those of you who failed to notice, this is meant to be humorous and not really too serious. It will have it's serious moments, but it's mostly just going to make fun of stuff. Also, I've so totally fucked with the timeline and everything else... and I laugh in the face of canon :Smirk:.

---

Mab returned with tea and muffins. Not just any muffins. Really, really good muffins. So good, in fact, that both boys found themselves eating nearly all of them, while the woman just stared.

Finally, muffins devoured, Mab broke the food-induced silence, "Ian said he found the two of you just outside of town."

Harry blinked, "Er, yeah. We're trying to, uh..."

"A crazy classmate of ours cast some sort of spell on us that sent us here, and we were looking for someway to get back home." Draco explained, rolling his eyes at Harry.

Mab looked at the boys. "That explains your clothes, then. I thought you were from kind of weird convention at first."

"You're not surprised?"

"Oh, dear, no! I learned a long time ago that improbability doesn't stop things from happening." She sipped her tea thoughtfully, "Though I must ask, where is home? You're not from Frisbee, are you?"

"... Frisbee?" Harry and Draco both gaped at the woman.

"I suppose not, then. They're an annoying sort. All stuck up about their religion, Frisbeetarianism," she rolled her eyes, "They always say that non-believers' souls will get trapped on the attic roof."(1)

Draco snorted.

"What kind of crazy world have we been sent to?" The look on Harry's face projected his worry quite clearly.

---

Albus Dumbledore had no idea what to do about what had been dubbed by the student body "Operation: Get Malfoy and Potter to Snog", especially considering that he wasn't quite sure if it was a bad thing or not. Sure, the Boy-Who-Lived had been dragged to another dimension with his arch-rival. And sure, the Dark Lord would probably use the boys absence to his advantage, but really, what harm could it possibly do?

"Albus, we really must get those boys back immediately."

"Yes, Minerva, I am aware of that." He examined the trinkets on his desk, "But I simply cannot think of a solution. Miss Tucker didn't violate any school rules, after all."

Severus Snape, hovering near the door way, gaped, and stated in a disbelieving deadpan, "Transporting other students to potentially hostile locations isn't against school rules."

"Well, if you put it that way." Albus shrugged, "But as far as I am aware, she had no hostile intentions in her actions."

Minerva stared, "The girl's insane, Albus."

"She transfigured the statue of the humpbacked witch into a raunchy display of boy love." Severus injected.

"Yes, I thought it was quite nice, actually."

Severus and Minerva exchanged looks that clearly stated: 'He's just as crazy as she is.'

---

Elsewhere at Hogwarts, the students continued to watch the two rivals on screen. It was a wonderful way to spend a Saturday, some justified, what with the rain and lightning outside. And it really wasn't as if they had anything better to do. Seriously, why would anyone do homework when the Golden Boy and The Sexy Blond were having random misadventures of doom?

Hermione, of course, was torn between leaving the room in a huff and staying to offer soundless support to her misplaced friend. She ended up staying, insistant that it had nothing to do with wishing that Draco and Harry would just snog already so they could come home. She blinked at the thought.

"Paige?" She turned to the dark-haired girl.

"Hm, yees, Hermione?" Paige barely removed her eyes from the screen (where it seemed Harry and Draco were being unceremoniously thrown out the door).

"You said you want them to, er, get together?"

"Indeed! I want to see them snogging!"

"So, if they, er, snog," Hermione blushed after saying such a word, "will that bring them back here?"

"Oh, who knows? Maybe. I hope so, but at the same time..." she sighed, "Oh, I so want to see them be all sexy and fantasy genre-esque!"

As she had been prone to causing, nearly everyone within hearing distance backed away enough to feel safe form her insanity. Paige, however, was completely oblivious to this migration.

---

Backside hurting, Harry turned to glare at Draco.

"What?" Draco didn't like that glare, "It's not my fault she couldn't take a joke."

"Malfoy, you called her a crazy mudblood with no culture."

"She was talking about FRISBEES!"

"Did you listen to anything else she was saying?" Harry rolled his eyes, "That's a group of people, you insensitive prat!"

It was Draco's turn to glare at Harry.

_I'm so glad I'm in your heads._ The voice plugged in, _it's so much fun!_

'Go away.' Draco snapped at the voice, which simply giggled somewhat manically.

Harry ignored it, deciding that listening to strange voices in his head probably wasn't doing much for his health. He stared at the ground. "Malfoy."

"What?" Draco looked around, nearly gagging at the sight of nearby little children rolling in what looked like... well, let's just say it looked like something no one should ever roll in.

"We're sitting in mud."

Silence. Glance. "Damn it."

Sighing, Harry dragged himself to his feet and feebly tried to wipe some of the grime off, "Ugh, nasty."

Draco rolled his eyes, "Wonderful observation, Potter. Would you like to add another obvious point to the conversation?"

A glare, "Sure," a pause, "You're a git."

---

A/N:Bangs head on table: Fuckfuckfuck, this chapter completely SUCKS. I hate it. This is the 7th draft. AND IT JUST SUCKS! I was so happy about that bit with the Frisbees, but it just... stopped working. My brain had a massive "I-hate-you-so-leave-me-the-hell-alone-you-insufferable-bitch" moment, and refused to let me write coherently. And it didn't help that I was switching back and forth between 3 different stories in different fandoms. And on top of that it's SHORT! Barely 1080 words! And only 7 kb! Fuckfuckfuck! Is it as horrible as I think it is? (Please be as honest as possible, yeah?)

Anyway, to juniper: Thank you for your review. :Grin: Made my day a bit better.

(1) Frisbeetarianism - I didn't make this up. I stole it from a friend. You know who you are. And of course, if two or more people believe in it, it can be considered a religion.


	5. Chapter 5

Maun  
By: Fuelled by Ramen  
View first chapter for all warnings and disclaimers and other shit.

For those of you who failed to notice, this fic is meant to be silly. It will have it's serious moments, but it's mostly just going to make fun of stuff. It ignores HBP for two reasons: One, the idea struck me long before the book was published and I had no urge to comply to canon after reading it. Two, I couldn't figure out how to make this fic canon complacent without it sucking major monkey balls. Thus, it laughs in the face of HBP and if any characters are OOC, blame it on the massive amounts of sugar and caffeine that have gone into this fic so far, and will continue to do so.

Extra disclaimer for this chapter: I don't own Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, which has a fun little mention this chapter.

---

Trudging through the rank streets of Trezbuen wasn't fun. In fact, it was so far from fun that it was downright annoying and somewhat painful. The road was made of what looked like red clay, but it had a distinct hardness to it that spoke more of cobblestone (even if it was very muddy). The buildings along the road were grimy and a dull grey colour, occasionally off-set by bright flowers and hanging window gardens.

The two boys walk through all this really didn't care. All that mattered was finding someplace to dry off, because they had lousy luck and only moments after being kicked out of Mab and Ian's house, Harry and Draco found themselves standing in the middle of a large thunderstorm. Both boys figured that since they were already soaked to the bones, there was no real point in making their robes impermeable to the bad weather.

And that's why they were trudging through the city, looking for a dry place and maybe a big, comfy fireplace with a over-stuffed armchair and a warm blanket.

"I'm going to kill her." Draco mumbled darkly, kicking at the wet ground as he trudged along, "Kill her and then feed her remains to the creatures in the Forbidden Forest."

Harry nodded, "Maybe they've arrested her."

"I doubt that. She's probably watching us right now."

Both boys cringed, exchanging paranoid glances through the pelting rain as thunder cracked ominously. It was fairly disconcerting to think that they were being watched by someone, especially the someone they figured was doing the watching.

"This is insane." Draco muttered.

---

Most of the students that had hunkered down in the Room of Requirement to watch the fun slowly began to trickle out as curfew approached. No matter how amusing it was to watch Harry and Draco's pain, they were mostly aware of the consequences of staying - especially those that had Minerva McGonagall or Severus Snape as their Head of House. Ponoma Sprout was fairly lenient when dolling punishment for breaking curfew, and Flitwick really had no problems (as long as learning was the excuse). But Snape and McGonagall were vicious, like starved beasts finally finding a prime cut of beef or lamb just waiting to be devoured. So most of the Slytherins and Gryffindors found themselves hurrying back to their dormitory, including Hermione and Ron.

In the comfort of the Gryffindor common room, the two sat in silence, trying to come up with a way to get Harry back. They didn't much care if they left Draco, mainly because he was a poncy git that they couldn't stand anyway, so what harm would it do to leave the ferret behind? So far, the best idea they had sucked. Horribly. So horribly, in fact, that even mentioning it would be a crime punishable by death. A very slow, very painful death. Involving thumbscrews. And possibly leather.

Hermione sighed. "Well, first I think we should try to talk to him."

"How do you 'spose we'd do that?" Ron blinked at his frizzy-haired friend.

"Considering that we can watch the two of them where ever they are, I think we could more than likely set up a communication spell similar to the viewing spell." Hermione paused, "And then maybe we could help Harry figure out how to get back."

Ron shook his head, "You heard what Paige said about their way home."

"Yes, yes. She thinks they'll have to... Well, anyway. I'm sure there's another way. I don't really want the mental image of those two in the proverbial broomcloset." She said, despite the fact that on the inside she swooned slightly at the thought. The image of Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter having a nice, long, drool worthy snog/shag was definitely a nice image, far be it that Hermione Granger, the girl dubbed as a "prude", would ever admit such a fixation. She could definitely see why Paige wanted it to happen, though, and secretly vowed to help. "I think that figuring out a way to communicate will give us the chance to help."

Not knowing what was going through Hermione's mind, Ron nodded slowly, "Alright, then."

---

Down in the dungeons, things were going in a very similar direction. The Slytherin common room was nearly empty. The only people lounging about were Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini, and they were in deep conversation. It was obvious they were plotting something, and at first it had started off as plans to off Paige Tucker as quickly and quietly as possible. But it had slowly progressed into an operation of a different kind.

"We could try to tell Draco how to get back." Blaise suggested.

"Oh, and exactly how are we going to talk to him?" Pansy rolled her eyes, her voice dripping, "Seriously, Blaise, they're in another world."

"So?" The dark-haired boy shrugged, "If we can watch him, why couldn't we talk to him?"

Pansy stared at Blaise, "I hadn't thought of that. But if we can, do you really want to tell Draco that his only chance to get back here would be to kiss Potter... and MEAN it."

Blaise looked a bit far away for a moment, "I wouldn't mind seeing that. Especially if it led to something else." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"Get your mind out of the gutter, Zabini!" But Pansy was in about the same place as he was, and realized she really wouldn't mind being a pervy voyeur. "Right. So we'll figure out a way to get in touch with Draco, tell him that he needs to make nice with Potter so that they can eventually osculate and/or shag in order to get home."

"That sounds about accurate, yeah." Blaise smirked.

"Let's get started then."

---

Severus Snape sighed for what felt like the millionth time. It had been a long day. First, two of his students were sent to another dimension. That he could deal with, really. He'd never really much cared for Potter, anyway. But it was disconcerting to have to inform Lucius Malfoy that his only son was currently off Circe-knows-where, gallivanting about with the Boy-Who-Lived, and, of course, as Draco's Head of House, Severus was stuck with the job. He wondered if it was possible to commit suicide with the Killing Curse.

"Wait." Lucius Malfoy stopped Severus mid-sentence, "Explain the situation again."

Severus withheld a twitch and began, for the fourth time, to explain just what had happened. 'I will not hex Voldemort's right hand man, I will not hex Voldemort's right hand man.' had become his inner mantra, and he sighed in relief when Malfoy had flooed away with a promise to return later to get more information.

Positive that the blond bastard was gone, Severus stalked from his office and made for the Headmaster's office.

He made to open the door but paused, hearing voices. One of which sounding like that Ravenclaw.

"Sir, I need to know the ultimate answer to life, the universe and everything."

There was a thoughtful silence before Dumbledore spoke, "I have thought on this, and I must say the answer is 42."

More silence, "42?"

"42."

A laugh, "It all makes sense! Thank you sir!"

And Paige Tucker pulled the door open and skipped out of the office while Professor Snape stared after her, flabbergasted, 'What the hell?'

Severus, shaking his head, entered the Headmaster's office, opened his mouth to speak and then stopped and stared. And stared. And continued to stare until he was forced to blink and then he just shook his head. "Albus, is there a reason why you're wearing a pink woman's bathrobe, stockings, and bunny ears?"

Dumbledore shrugged, "Not actually. But pink is a good colour on me, don't you agree?"

The Potions Master considered that self-inflicted Killing Curse. "Surely you could have found something less... obnoxious?"

"Ah, but where would be the fun in that?" A pause and that damn annoying eye twinkle, "And don't call me Shirley."(1)

---

A/N: This is, by far, my favourite chapter so far. This is what I've been aiming for. Completely whacked-out. I had some problems with the beginning of the Snape seen, because I haven't really decided what Lucius I'm gonna use. There's Bastard!Lucius, Sexy!Lucius, Misunderstood!Lucius, Evil!Lucius, and, my favourite, SomewhatStupidButWeStillLoveHim!Lucius. Feel free to make suggestions on that, mmkay?  
And on a completely unrelated note, why do Ron and Draco insist on calling each other "ferret" and "weasel"? I mean, they're practically the same animal, except ferrets are domesticated and generally albino and weasels are wild. They even have the same genus, _Mustela_ (the ferret is _Mustela putorius furo_). So aren't they just calling each other basically the same thing! O.o Sorry, that's been bothering me forever.  
(1) Airplane, anyone? I've always wanted to make Dumbledore say that, or Snape. I almost made it Snape.

Oh, and as a side note: Refrain from feeding the Potion Masters. They do not appreciate it.

To the anonymous reviewers, thanks a bundle for the reviews! To the signed review people, I love responding to you guys, so keep reviewing! YOU ALL TOTALLY ROXERS MY BOXERS (if I wore boxers, that it...):Grin:


	6. Chapter 6

Maun  
By: Fuelled by Ramen  
View first chapter for all warnings and disclaimers and other shit.  
For those of you who failed to notice, this is meant to be humorous and not really too serious. It will have it's serious moments, but it's mostly just going to make fun of stuff. Also, I've so totally fucked with the timeline and everything else... and I laugh in the face of canon :Smirk:.  
As usual, mucho gracias to all reviewers, anonymous and signed alike, especially those that have reviewed repeatedly. This fic is for you guys. Every single word of it. And those of you that read but don't review, thank you for at least reading it (I wish you'd review so I could get some feedback, but hey... at least it's not bombing horribly). I might be running a contest later on for one of the chapters. I'll provide details once I decide which contest to go with.

---

"An' I said to 'im, I said, 'that's not a troll, that's me wife!'" And uproarious laughter followed, paving the way for feet pounding and a request for a new round of drinks.

Harry and Draco watched from a corner close to a brightly blazing fireplace, wary about going anywhere near the large, drunk men. Especially the one with the axe, who was particularly sloshed and boisterous. Draco muttered, "Well, at least it's warm in here."

"Yeah."

They were silent, but the drunks continued on in the background.

The pub they'd wandered into was alright. It was dry and it was warm, and it didn't smell horrible, all of which were a major plus. The staff was nice, letting Harry and Draco borrow some clothes and quilt to dry off and warm up. But they were hesitant to get anything to eat or drink, considering they didn't know what kind of monetary system these people used nor how they would treat someone who couldn't pay. It was safer to just sit by the fire curled up in a quilt.

"Would you two like anything?" One of the perky employees popped up in between their chairs, and Harry jumped.

"No, thank you, though. We're, er... not familiar with this area's currency." Harry pulled the blanket tighter, in case the girl tried to pull it away.

"Foreigners, eh? Well, don't worry. What money d'you have?"

Harry blinked, and dug in his pockets, pulling out three galleons, six sickles, and nine knuts. Draco pulled out a little change bag, pouring out twelve galleons, eighteen sickles, and twenty-four knuts. The girl stared.

"That's weird money. I'll have to ask my boss to come over here and take a look." She smiled at them and wandered off.

"We are so fucked." Harry voiced, sighing.

"Hm. You know, I've been wondering," Draco watched the people around them, "why are we all speaking the same language?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," the blond rolled his eyes at Harry, "why do they speak English, if we're obviously not even from the same plane of existence?"

Harry blinked, "Really strange coincidence that happens to be extremely convenient?"

"Maybe." Draco didn't sound particularly convinced.

The voice tittered.

---

"Alright then. This is the best spell I could find. It's odd enough, but it might work." Hermione said from beneath a pile of books. Ron looked at her sceptically.

"What is it?"

"It's called the Spying Wife charm. You need a strand of the target's hair, and you cast the charm on the hair. It becomes a pathway between the people, and allows communication over long distances. Only one party needs to cast it."

"Great. Where'll we get one of Harry's hairs?"

Hermione gave Ron a look that clearly stated 'You're an idiot' before leaving the library to head up to the boy's dormitory in order to attack Harry's comb.

On the other side of the library, Blaise and Pansy came across the same thing.

---

Draco wasn't much liking the sight of the boss. In fact, he was secretly terrified that the man would grab him up and eat him. He couldn't figure out if every male in Maun was large and hairy and smelly or if this particular location was special.

Trezbuen was indeed special. Being the capital city, it was well-known that it needed more guards and such than other cities. Lumberjacks from surrounding areas, out of jobs because of new-fangled elf logging inventions, decided to take a chance at being security guards. It wasn't a secret that lumberjacks were big, hulking, muscular men with a lot of hair and offensive body odours, and in a line of work as strenuous and dangerous as security detail, these things were major pluses. Most criminals, also knowing the lumberjacks' not-secret, stayed far, far away from Trezbuen and it's security guards offensive, yet highly effective body odours. Because so many lumberjacks-made-security-guards had flocked to Trezbuen, the population of hairy, bad smelling men had increased and with the inevitable birth of new hairy, bad smelling babies, it was only a matter of time before most of Trezbuen was home to a shockingly large population of security guards.

The boys didn't know this bit of information, and Draco continued to fear that all men looked like these guys.

The boss was eyeing Harry and Draco curiously, "You two are travellers, eh?"

Draco watched in not-so-secret glee as Harry gulped nervously and stumbled out an awkward, "Something like that. Er. Sir."

The man didn't question what he meant, "Well, lemme see what kind of money you're holding." Both boys held out the money they'd dug out, and watched as the boss picked up a galleon and stared at it, before moving onto a sickle and a knut. The man seemed thoughtful, weighing the money in his big, hairy hands. Finally, he seemed to reach a conclusion, "These are strange, but it's all just gold, silver and copper if you get right down to it, and that can be melted down and traded. We'll accept this. Welcome to the Blind Melon."

At that, Draco took a deep breath and Harry let out a long sigh of relief. 'Miracles do exist.'

_Oh, hey, did I tell you two about the lueg stew?_ The voice asked cheerfully, making sure to be heard in both boys' heads loud and clear. It was getting a bit irritated at being ignored, and intended to make sure this never happened again. _It's this really great stew made from vegetables and lueg meat, but the lueg meat is normally really poisonous, so they use this weird distilling process that only works on one part of the lueg, it's --_

'Stop. Please, just stop. I'd rather not hear about the lueg's body parts. Really.' Draco snapped at the voice, completely oblivious to the fact that Harry had told the voice pretty much the same thing.

_Fine then. See if I make you two any lueg stew. Hmph._

'How do you plan to do that if you're a disembodied voice?'

_I am not just a disembodied voice, you know. I'm not quite sure who I am when I'm with you two, but I know I have a life! And I expect I'll probably meet you soon, and now I won't make you any lueg stew when we do meet._

Harry's left eye twitched.

---

Paige grinned. Not at anything in particular, but just for the sake of grinning. She really enjoyed scaring people with her expressions. Especially the Hufflepuffs. It was just way to easy. Another thing she really enjoyed: Seeing the teachers completely thrown for a loop. In that category, her focus was mainly on Snape. It wasn't that she didn't like him. In fact, she was quite fond of him in a very strange "you-are-my-idol" kind of way. So she really loved freaking the hell out of him. Unfortunately, she hadn't really done much on that front, considering how she'd been plotting to get Harry and Draco together for a while.

She decided that since one plan was in motion, she may as well continue on with another one. And this one involved giving Severus Snape a nervous and paranoid disposition by the time she left Hogwarts.

As she left the Headmaster's office and noticed the above mentioned professor giving them looks of doom, she knew this plan would take less time. This of course, added to the knowledge that 42 days was probably going to be how long until Harry and Draco finally got together... Well, it looked like things were beginning to fall right into place.

Paige couldn't wait for what would come next.

---

A/N: Meh. It's amusing at least, albeit short. All in favour of smut say "Woo diddy!"... O.o Sorry. I'm mediocre at writing smut, but I seriously want smut in this fic for some unfathomable reason. :Will work for smut: Prolly because I'm a bit perverse, and boys in compromising situations make me happy. Oh goddess. I really just admitted that, didn't I:gets tackled by the men in white coats: YOU'LL NEVER TAKE ME ALIVVVEE!

And, I love Douglas Adams and every word he has ever written. Everyone, if you haven't read Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy (or any of the sequels), I'm telling you now: Go and buy it and read it. You will love it. And it'll help you understand stuff later on, because I'll probably put a whole shitload of random HHGttG references at the most incredibly random times. I've already done it once. :cackles:


	7. Chapter 7

Maun

By: Fuelled by Ramen

View first chapter for all warnings and disclaimers and other shit.

For those of you who failed to notice, this is meant to be humorous and not really too serious. It will have it's serious moments, but it's mostly just going to make fun of stuff. Also, I've so totally fucked with the timeline and everything else... and I laugh in the face of canon :Smirk:.

Spying Wife will be shown by **bold** text.

The disembodied voice will continue to be _italics_.

---

28 September

The Room of Requirement was dead out of the question, considering that Paige had taken up residence in the room over the weekend, so Hermione had to find another place that could be set up for what they had to do. She scowered the entire castle in search of the perfect location, a place were they could work in silence. A place that no one would bother them.

She found a place.

Greenhouse number 3 was the only one that didn't house any plants that would be likely to kill someone, so she figured it to be the place. Unfortunately (or so she thought), Blaise and Pansy had decided it to be the best place too.

"What are you two doing here?" Ron glared at the Slytherins, who just rolled their eyes and went about setting up their stuff. Hermione watched them carefully.

"You're doing the Spying Wife Charm too?" She finally asked, eyeing the two.

Blaise turned and shrugged, "Well, it's the best idea we've had so far. It's at least worth a shot."

Hermione nodded in acceptance of this explaination, "Should we perform the spell so that we can speak to both of them?"

"That sounds like something," Pansy inputed, "And I'm sure at least one of them would be more willing to believe that they need to snog to get home if multiple people told them so."

With that, the lot of them gathered their things together and began working through the Spying Wife Charm.

---

"Bollocks," Draco muttered, stretching out in the somewhat comfortable bed that had been designated to him at the Ye Ole Hole in the Wall (or so Draco had decided to call it, as "Dragon's Den" seemed far to diginified a name for such a place). Despite the crudeness of the place, the room was fairly comfortable and well ventilated, as well as being large enough for two of those relatively comfortable beds. And he couldn't complain about the food, which was, for all intents and purposes, wonderful.

He rolled over, making to cover his eyes from the annoying sunlight shining in through the window with his pillow. He heard Harry let out a bit of a mutter from his side of the room, and logged the fact away for later examination. As it was, Draco was planning to go back to sleep.

Planning being the opperative word, considering that barely a moment had passed before a shrill sound was set off in his head, and he found himself shooting up and covering his ears. He vaguely noted that Harry was in a similar state of distress, and allowed that to create a bit of a warm feeling before he went back to agonising over the entirely random shrieking. A moment later, it stopped, and Draco looked around in mild bewilderment.

"What the hell was _that_?" He asked, rubbing his head.

Harry blinked, "I haven't the foggiest."

They were both silent, listening carefully.

**Did it work?** A voice that sounded suspiciously like Ronald Weasley rang loudly in Draco's ears.

**I'm not sure. I've activated the spell, but I can't be sure.** That one sounded like Hermione Granger.

'Oh goddess, no.'

**Oh, for goodness sake. Draco, dear, can you hear us?** Draco sighed at that, recognising Pansy's voice.

'I can.'

A sigh, **Wonderful. Ah, Potter can too. Even better.**

Draco glanced at Harry, noticing an odd look. Deciding to ignore it for now, went back to Pansy, 'How are you talking to us?'

**Spying Wife Charm. Blaise came across it. And Granger. Listen, we know how to get you home.**

Harry sat up straighter at that, a happy look covering his face. Draco fleetingly thought he looked pretty decent without his glasses before pouncing on Pansy's offered information. 'So, how?'

There was a moment of silence were both Harry and Draco thought that perhaps they'd been abandoned. **You're not going to like it. Either of you.**

'Just tell us!'

More silence before a defeated sigh and the sound of Hermione Granger's voice met them, **Paige's whole purpose in doing this is an attempt to get the two of you together. As in, romantically involved. She's fairly certain that your only way back is if the two of you, well, have a bit of a groping session.**

'Well, that's not that hard. A quick snog can get us back? Then what the hell are we waiting for?' Draco rolled his eyes, starting to stand so that he could thoroughly molest Harry.

It was Blaise that prevented him from actually going through with said plan, **We don't think it's that easy. In fact, we're pretty certain that won't be enough.**

'And what will be enough, then?'

**We expect she wants you two to fall in love.**

A bit of a choking cough sounded from Harry's side of the room, and Draco found himself agreeing wholeheartedly with said reaction. 'Then I suppose we'll be here forever.'

**Or she might just want to see you guys shag. Who knows? Try it all.** Pansy seemed a bit too cheerful about that, in Draco's opinion, and it was fairly obvious by how pale Harry had become that he was thinking the same thing.

Hermione put in, **Look, we'll check in on you later. If you need to talk to us, simply tap your head with your wand and say '_consilium_'. We'll be looking for other ways to get you home in the meantime.**

'Alright.' Draco sighed as the connection began to putter out, and he glanced over at Harry.

Harry, of course, was busy rocking back and forth in a fetal position.

"Stop that."

"This is crazy, you know. Absolutely bonkers. Completely batshit," Harry stopped his rocking, gazing fixedly at Draco, "I'm going to kill her."

"Yes, yes. We've been over all this before. Now, why don't we focus of the current problem? I suppose we should test the whole 'make-out' theory." He eyed Harry carefully, and nearly started laughing at the horrified expression on the other boys face.

Harry shook his head frantically, "No. No way. Don't even think about it. Never."

Draco raised an eyebrow, "Sounds like the lady doth protest too much."

"Did you just quote Shakespeare?" a blink, followed by a short pause, "More improtantly, did you just call me a _lady_?"

---

'Well, that was unexpected.' Paige could honestly say that she never thought that anyone would figure out a way to talk to the boys. In fact, she had concluded that everyone would just be in shock for a bit longer before returning to their everyday life.

'Apparently I was mistaken,' she realised as she watched both Harry and Draco have an inaudible conversation. She knew they weren't talking to "The Voice" considering that the viewing spell picked it up.

She really didn't like being wrong, especially about her plots and schemes. Fortunately, this little incident was anything but a set back. As far as she could tell, it was just the perfect catalyst to start getting them closer to the - hopefully - inevitable outcome. Paige smiled widely, watching the wall that showed the two boys for a moment before getting up and walking from the Room of Requirement.

Since things were going so well on one front, it was time to put her other plan into motion.

'Professor Snape won't know what hit him,' she squealed gleefully as she hurried down the hall towards the Ravenclaw dorms.

---

Lucius Malfoy was not a very patient man. Oh, he was very good at pretending to be patient. Anyone with half a brain could pull that off, and Lucius felt doubly blessed, considering that he had much more than just half a brain.

Despite his tendency to damn patience to the furthest reaches of hell, Lucius was making a remarkable effort to remain calm and collected, understanding even, as he sat in Professor Dumbledore's office, waiting for the infuriating old man to get to the point. He was being very round-about, offering random sweets and making small talk. Lucius feared that another moment in the man's clutches would cause him to gladly murder Dumbledore, everything be damned. It was only the nagging thought that Azkaban wasn't a place he wanted to visit ever again that prevented him from hexing the Headmaster.

Lucius took a small lull in Albus' chatter to interupt, "Sir, I am, unfortunately, not here for conversation. Severus informed me of my son's involvement in a relocating spell. While he did provide me with an overview of the situation, I feel that you more than likely know extra details on the situation."

Albus nodded, "Yes, yes. Well, since you asked, I'll just go on then. One of the seventh year students decided she thought it would be fun to send your son and Mr Potter off to another dimension."

"Yes, that's what Severus told me. What are the plans to retrieve them?" Or just Draco, he mentally added.

"At present? We have none. Ms Tucker insists that they just have to do what it is she sent them for, and they should return on their own." Albus had a bright smile on his aged face. It was most... disconcerting.

"And what is this goal?" Lucius thought that he probably didn't really want to know.

The Headmaster's eyes twinkled, seeming to be enjoying having information that the Malfoy patriarch was unaware of, "They have 41 days to fall in love."

Now, Lucius may have been able to fake being patient, but faking absolute calm?

"What!" the man's bellow could be heard from the outside corridor.

---

A/N: I apologize not only for the lateness, but also for the shabbiness of this particular chapter. It's not my favourite, and is in fact the one I want to destroy the most. I have the urge to DROWN it. Especially the first bit. Although that bit with Lucius at the end was kinda fun. I'll definitely write him in more. Bah. I suppose my disappointment over last chapter has festered towards this chapter. I will not be posting chapter 8 until I've gotten at least 10 reviews for this (or previous) chapter(s). So you want me to update? Please review. Oh, and I totally just realised I had all my dates mixed up. O.o I'm too lazy to go back and fix it, so the dates should have been 26 September, not 28. I had a brain melt-down.


	8. Chapter 8

Title: Maun  
Author: Fuelled by Ramen  
View first chapter for all warnings and disclaimers and other shit.  
Special thanks to everyone who reviewed. I decided that 8 reviews were enough to update, since they were such nice reviews. Chapter 9 will be up on my LJ on Wednesday, and up here sometime next week.  
And yes, I'm perfectly aware that this fic is le suck. O Personally, I blame the GW fandom. I spent... er... 5 years...? We'll go with that, yeah, five years writing exclusively Gundam Wing fanfiction, and now suddenly I'm like... ZOMG HARRY POTTER!1!1!oneone! And I don't know why. Oo Guess I'm just special. ZOMG babble. Anyway, this chapter, while not very long, has some info on the Voice AND has the beginning of Operation: Harass Snape! Yaay! (If you have any suggestion for making his life miserable, let me know. Best one gets used!)

Spying Wife will be shown by **bold** text.

The disembodied voice will continue to be _italics_.

Chapter EIGHT

---

Severus had the distinct feeling of being watched. He had been having this distinct feeling for nigh on four hours, but everytime he looked around for whatever was watching him, he came upon nothing.

He was sure that this was not a good thing. So sure, in fact, that he had taken to walking the hallway between the entrance to the dungeons and his office with his wand drawn and at the ready. Any and every noise was a potential enemy, especially if it came from behind him.

Severus had already hexed Filch.

Twice.

But that feeling wouldn't go away. Someone was definitely following him, and it was only a matter of time before he would figure out who. Unfortunately for him, those that don't want to be found out can usually hide themselves fairly well. Especially if they are scheming Ravenclaws with too much free time.

Severus clung to the thought that he would figure it out. Eventually.

---

Draco rolled his eyes. This was going nowhere. "Listen, Potter, stop being such a prat."

"Me? Being a prat? You're the one that not only called me a _lady_ but also suggested we bloody make out!" Harry, despite his best efforts, sounded absolutely frantic.

"Do I honestly have to explain to you what a figure of speech is?" the blond glared at Harry, "Because if I do, I'm castrating you with the first blunt object I see. Really, Potter! Get a grip!"

It was Harry's turn to glare, "I've decided to kill you with a spork."

"A... what?" Draco completely ignored the threat to focus on the unusual word, "What the fuck is a _spork_?"

The black-haired boy looked smug, "I'm not going to tell you."

_Oh, I'm here again. Hello, boys._

'Oh no, not you.' Draco complained.

_Oh yes, it's me! Guess what_?

'If I said I don't want to know, you'll tell us anyway, am I right?'

The voice hummed in agreement, _Yessir I will! So, are you going to guess?_

Harry sighed, 'You're really an evil troll that wants to take over the universe?'

_Of course not! Although, I am pretty sure I'm being held captive by the Trem Council... I think. Maybe. I'm really not sure about that._

'How are you not sure about whether or not you're being held captive?' Draco blinked.

_Well, I told you two before, when I'm here, I'm not too sure what's going on _there_. It's a side effect of what I'm doing. Oh, I'll remember everything about talking to you two when I'm back in my own body, but right now? Haven't a clue. Well, not entirely. You're not guessing enough_!

'You know how to get us home without us having to snog?' the raven-haired Gryffindor asked, his voice absolutely _dripping_ with hope.

_Er, no. But I can remember my name now! So you can probably find me, and then maybe I can help you _without_ being a disembodied voice! Wouldn't that be splendid_? the voice said.

'Oh, uh... Wonderful?' Harry wasn't quite sure if this was important or not.

Draco, on the otherhand, saw this as an opportunity. An opportunity to possibly get out of having to kiss Harry. 'Well, then, what's your name?'

_I'm fairly certain it's Dante Kaneil, but one can never be too sure._

'You know were we are. Why don't you come and find us?'

_Like I said before, I think I might be a captive. I'm nearly positive that I did something and that it's biting me in the ass now. But if you two help me out, I'll help you guys out_.

Harry sighed, forgetting momentarily about their current problem, "So we're going to end up rescuing a disembodied voice."

Draco tugged uselessly at his shirt sleeve, "It seems that way."

"Brilliant." Both boys sighed again.

_Wonderful! I'm going back to my body now._

And the voice was gone.

"I guess we should ask if anyone knows who, er, Dante Kaneil is?" Harry mused as he pulled his shoes on and scourgified his clothes.

"Yes, Potter."

With that, both boys made their way towards the door.

---

Paige hadn't been near the Room of Requirement all day. Instead she had stalked Professor Snape, memorizing his schedule as best as she could. It had been something she had done the year before, but classes had gotten in the way and multiple accidents involving suits of armour had occured. She had decided to put off her reconnaisance for when things were more... settled. It was the first time in months that she had taken out her little "Snape Book", and Paige found herself needing to refresh her memory of the professor's daily routine.

She glanced at the little book, going over the section labelled "Sunday" once again.

Sunday

6 am: Get up

7 am: Mark essays (average grade: horrible)

8 am: Breakfast in the Great Hall

9 - 11 am: Hallway patrol (Dungeons - 2nd floor)

12 pm: Lunch in GH

1 pm: Terrorise Hufflepuffs

2 pm...

She grinned evilly, eyeing the patrolling professor's back with a look akin to animalistic hunger. Stalking the man was giving her a decent idea of how long it would take for him to crack. Considering how many times he'd looked over his shoulder (and the fact that he had drawn his wand), she figured it was going to be much easier than she had anticipated.

---

Pansy wasn't going to lie. She had no problem with the idea of Draco and Harry in a compromising situation. In fact, she thought that Harry was quite handsome, in a normal kind of way. He wasn't gorgeous, but he wasn't ugly either, and she had always harboured a bit of a secret crush on the boy. The idea of her best friend being involved with him made her nearly giddy with excitement.

And Draco, of course, was also in the handsome category. A bit better looking than Harry, she figured, but like the Boy-Who-Lived, not quite gorgeous nor average.

'Oh, yes,' Pansy thought, 'I'd pay to see the two of them locking lips.'

With that on her mind, she made her way towards the Room of Requirement, hoping to catch a look at them snogging in an attempt to get back home.

---

The silver-haired man opened his eyes slowly, blinking away the blurriness as he took a quick glance around his quarters. Everything was the same as it was when he went into the trance, causing a heavy sigh of relief to escape the man's lips. His captors hadn't been in the room. He wasn't sure how exactly he had managed to be so lucky as to never be seen projecting by the guards, but he wasn't going to complain. Not when that luck might possibly lead to his escape.

He stretched cramped arms over his head, rolling his neck as he did so, before standing from his cot and heading towards the door. The dank scent of mildew followed him as he pressed his ear to the door and listened. If he was very lucky, the guards would be playing a game of cards or sleeping, giving him the perfect opportunity to try to project a message to his brother.

Dante Kaneil was very lucky, indeed.

---

Extra A/N: Snarf. I got a bit lazy towards the end there. Wooo. Well, feel free to bash to high-heaven! Feedback is feedback, ya know? Let me know if there are any glaring issues or mistakes or grammar problems that I missed. I noticed a few on last chapter that I completely blanked on, and I'm about to go back and fix that. I've done a sketch of a scene from this chapter, expect it up... eventually (i.e. once I get my scanner to work again, as it is tempermental and hates me).

On another note: Again, I must request that you refrain from feeding the Potions Masters. They do not appreciate it.

I just totally realised I changed the name of the place Harry and Draco stayed at. In chapter 6, I called it "Blind Melon" and then in chapter 7 I called it "Dragon's Den". I have come up with a solution so that I don't have to go back and change it (because I am, indeed, lazy). The tavern section is called the Blind Melon, while the inn section is called the Dragon's Den. There we go. Problem solved. And I bet no one would have noticed if I hadn't pointed it out. -headdesk- Please review, as it keeps me coherent!


	9. Chapter 9

Title: Maun  
Author: Fuelled by Slash  
View first chapter for all warnings and disclaimers and other shit.

Thank you again to everyone who's commented so far. T'is greatly appreciated. bows

I apologise for the long wait for this chapter. I've been so preoccupied with school that writing has been at the bottom of my to-do list. But hey, I'm done with high school now so I might update. Ugh. Then I have college. So maybe not.

This chapter is, possibly, total crack. At least, that's what it seems like. Maybe it isn't. I dunno. I wonder, though, how all this is going to come together by the end. I haven't really put much thought to this new little sub-plot I tossed in. Honestly, the Voice was going to stay just a voice. And now I'm giving him a name, and in this chapter, other stuff. sighs And I'm having him rescued! HE WAS ONLY A NPC!!!! headdesk I wonder how he got so out of control. Maybe it's that people actually _like_ the Voice... Oo Who knows? Not me.

Spying Wife will be shown by **bold** text.

The disembodied voice will continue to be _italics_.

Chapter NINE

---

There's something to be said about what a person drinks with their lunch. Some people drink a nice, gentle green tea with a bit of spearmint. Others drink simple water or the basic pumpkin juice.

That Severus had taken to drinking firewhiskey with his lunch probably said quite a lot about him. However, the fact had not created in him a great sense of concern, and, more to the point, he didn't really care what anyone thought of his drinking habits. As far as he figured, firewhiskey was much more dignified than Trelawney's cooking sherry and didn't make the drinker look insane.

He really couldn't deal with looking insane at this point.

The constant paranoia was fed by the unshakable certainty that he was being watched, and, unfortunately, led to alcoholic tendencies. He had a feeling he was on his second or third bottle of firewhiskey, but after finishing the first his mind was so befuddled that he couldn't know for sure.

He swooshed the potent liquid in it's glass, leaning back in his chair and blinking slowly. He glanced at the clock that he'd bought in a Fiji souvenir shop once upon a midnight dreary, and smirked in his drunken haze.

"S'one. Louloulou... S'time to scare the... the... Hufflepuffs!" He cackled joyously, dragging himself from his cushy chair.

As it was, his attempts to not seem insane failed.

Nearby, in the shadows of the corridor outside his chamber, a lone Ravenclaw grinned sadistically.

---

Harry wasn't exactly sure what the hell they were doing. He was at least somewhat sure that it might get them home. But he had no idea why nor did he really want to know. As they say, ignorance is bliss. 'But who are "they" anyway?'

Standing outside in the rain was one thing. Really, Harry could stand that to some degree. It was the "scaling-the-castle-wall-in-the-pouring-rain" that was unbearable. Especially since he was the one that had been "elected" (or, rather, threatened) into the position despite his complete and total unwillingness.

Luckily, it was a fairly small wall, and one with plenty of hand holds. His wand tucked away in his back pocket, he dropped down from the wall and looked around.

Off in the distance, one of the Trezbuen security guards stood staring dumbly at the sky as if wondering why it was falling on him. Harry figured he wasn't one to worry about.

It was at this point that Harry wondered why he hadn't just levitated himself over.

"Why are you just standing there, Potter?"

"I'm wondering what possessed me to listen to you."

Silence.

"Maybe it was my dashing good looks."

"No," Harry sighed, "Definitely a spork."

Draco still had no idea what the hell a spork was, and made this fact known. Harry, still refusing to inform him, ignored the whining Slytherin. This, in turn, caused Draco to really want to pout. However, his Malfoy pride wouldn't allow him to. Not with Potter so near at least.

So they stood in the downpour a moment longer before Harry finally took a step forward, "Right. Positive thoughts. We save the voice, he helps us find another way home."

"Alright. I'm assuming that this is the right castle."

"It's the only castle, Malfoy."

"Then that means it's the correct one, Potter."

A glare. A sudden movement, and a flick of a wand, "Sporkus!"(1)

More silence.

"Damn. If only that actually worked."

"... You've really dwelled on this spork thing for a while, haven't you?" Draco blinked.

Harry rubbed his neck, "Er, yeah."

"Right then." The blond rolled his eyes, hiking up his robes and striding forward. "Let's get this over with, shall we? Save the disembodied voice, save us from the delusions of that… that… GIRL." (2)

"Hear, hear! That's the first smart thing you've said."

Some fumbling and a few notice-me-not charms later, the two boys had somehow managed to make their way into the castle. Unfortunately, this was only a small improvement from the rain-doused battlements outside. More specifically, they had no idea where the hell to go.

This resulted in nearly ten minutes of silent arguing, corner-peaking, and failed attempts at tracking charms.

"Idiot! We don't know anything about the voice other than it's name! How'd you expect to track him?" Draco muttered at the end of the ten minutes.

It seemed that Harry was beginning to develop a nervous tick. "That's the ninth time, thanks. Now kindly shut up before I figure out a nasty way to castrate you."

"Oo, threatening. I'm shaking in my designer boots." The blond rolled his eyes.

For a grand total of four minutes, both boys were silent. They might have even remained quiet a bit longer, if they hadn't suddenly found themselves faced by two dumbfounded-looking security guards. The two men just stared at them for a moment, completely unsure of why there were people in front of them. To rectify this situation, Harry and Draco both cast a very quick stunning charm and watched in awe as the towering men fell over.

"How… anti-climatic." Draco blinked at the collapsed men.

Harry sighed, "Yeah. I don't think this'll be that hard, after all."

"Looks that way, doesn't it? Well, let's get on with it then."

The trip through the castle was almost entirely uneventful after that, although they did have a bit of a tussle on the bottom floor with an enthusiastic dog and what appeared to be a very large weevil. This was the only way to describe it, as no other words came even close.

Eventually, they reached the lowest level of the castle and found themselves watching four security guards play what looked like strip poker. Harry wasn't quite sure how these people knew what strip poker was, but just shrugged and went with it. Behind the men, the wall was occupied by a door with at least fifteen locks. Excessive, maybe, but it sure looked impressive.

In another one of those weird moments of cooperation, both he and Draco knocked the guards out and made their way to the door.

Draco scowled at the monstrosity. "That pillock better be in here. This dampness is probably making my hair frizz horribly."

Harry rolled his eyes, "You're a narcissist."

"Yes, well, if I must love someone, may as well be myself." He smirked, and with a flick of his wrist cast a quick _alohamora_ at the locks. And then he glared, because the spell didn't work. "What the hell?!"

Meanwhile, Harry had snatched a ring of keys from the wall next to the door. With a bounce to his step at showing Draco up, Harry unlocked the many locks with his handy key ring of doom.

Draco scowled again, but opted to say nothing as he shoved the door open.

In front of them, sitting on a rickety old coat, was a man at least five years older than them. From what they could tell, the silver-haired man was sleeping in an up-right position.

Harry stepped forward and poked the man in the chest. "Are you Dante Kaneil?"

The man twitched and then jumped backwards in a jolt, "Generally, you don't poke people you don't know. But maybe that doesn't count, since yes. I am Dante. And it's about damn time you two got here!"

Dante stood and harrumphed, hands on his hips.

Harry and Draco exchanged a glance before Draco spoke, "So we've rescued you. Now get us home, will you?"

Harry was suddenly reminded of the Cheshire cat as Dante leaned forward with an enigmatic grin on his face. "You call this a rescue? We're not even out of the country yet."

The two wizards groaned.

---

A/N: Ah, my beloveds! I bet you all hate me. . But hey! I updated! That's something, right? Just don't expect another one in the next six months, lol. I only updated now because I was re-reading my old reviews/comments and just couldn't help but squee and hurry to finish this chapter. So… yeah. Comments? Criticism?

(1) "Sporkus!" - This was stolen from the ficcy "I Caught Fire". Of course, it was my idea to begin with so it's all good. (Hope she doesn't mind the pilfering.)

(2) "Save the…, … GIRL." – Can you tell what show I'm obsessing over? First to guess right gets to read the ORIGINAL version of this chapter (All six paragraphs!).


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